Origin
by Vanilla Topping
Summary: Ed takes on more than a state alchemist's duties as he is thrown into a mythical world of war, alchemy and dragons. After all, the philosopher's stone is worthy only to a true philosopher. [RoyEd hints]
1. Origin

**Disclaimer:** Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa Hiromu-sensei, Square Enix and recently, Viz. I earn no profit in this.

**Notes:** This is an alternate universe story set in a semi-medieval setting. Please bear with me if it seems strange at first.

Please do not rely on me for accuracy of the information I mention in this story. Some are real to the best of my knowledge, while others are purely fictional to fit the FMA story.

This was revised and rewritten on the 26th June, 2007.

**ORIGIN:**

_Did you know? "Philosopher" originally meant "Lover of wisdom" and took its origin from a famous retort which Pythagoras made when he was called "wise". His wisdom only consisted in knowing that he was ignorant. He declared that he was not "Wise" but rather a "Lover of wisdom"._

_Philosophy is contracting. The last of its children; the science of Psychology and Sociology, have made their independent advances. Philosophy is not, "everything and nothing". That is only the definition given to it by the sarcastic unbeliever._

_Scientists search for answers, philosophers questions the truth of their answers in their search for answers of their own philosophy. The philosophy of a philosopher is a pillar solid enough to be called a religion. It is sacred, unique, a world of beliefs and questions within a world of "Reality"._

The sky was bleeding blood and acid as the dragons swooped across the fortress, their claws dragging the soldiers into the air with the hooks of their claws. If the men were lucky enough to not be punctured fatally by those claws, they were surely not lucky enough as to survive the fall back to the ground where the enemy swam like piranhas.

The fortress would fall if they did not send men out.

The front lines were sacrifices; a wall of flesh to act as a shield for them to attack behind from. The state alchemists would later move forward and pay back the debt of their deaths a thousand times over in turn.

Ed lost sight of Roy almost immediately as the first cannonball hit the fortress that was behind them. He was on defence, creating walls of stone by compacting the muddy ground beneath them. Roy was on offence somewhere on the other side of one of the walls he had constructed, snapping his fingers as though to the music of the screams of burning men.

The enemy's ground attack was just as bad as the airborne dragons. Chimeras charged from the cages they were confined in the moment they were released and seemed to find pleasure in taking out their pent up energy and frustrations quite well.

On them.

Ed's barriers were rendered useless against the giant beasts, whose weight alone crushed even the most solid of his mud walls. The chimeras were pouring from around the walls faster than he could transmute them, while some of the lizard crossbreeds climbed the wall with an ease that was insulting. In that split second, the rank of 'colonel' given to him, weighed more heavily than ever on his shoulders. The men were waiting and looking at him for orders. One word from him would determine their life or death.

Even before it registered in his brain, the word had fallen from his lips.

"RETREAT!"

_I don't think you really want to know… you don't know what you're asking and frankly, I don't really want to share the experience. But since it seems to be my turn to speak, I'll tell you from the beginning. Remember, you asked for it. _

_Here we go…_

**o0o**

When the profile of Edward Elric, eldest son of Hohenheim Elric was delivered to his office desk, Roy Mustang's first impression was quite sceptical. Sure, it was tradition to send the first son to the military, but that was just as a plain recruit in the army, why could the military's elite state alchemist division be after a 15-year old? The state alchemist division drew its human resources from the Tower of Knowledge alumni and then, only those blessed with talent were allowed to graduate from the Tower of Knowledge at the age of 17. However, he sighed and picked it up nonetheless, his opinion didn't matter, the brass wanted him and so, Roy would fetch the boy like the obedient dog of the military he was supposed to be.

Despite the prestigious reputation of the Tower, the Elric boy lived at the city's orphanage. The orphanage wasn't as bleak as he had imagined. Sure, the walls were of cement and the gate surrounding the place made it look like a prison but Roy had seen far worse in the heat of the war as the abandoned children were herded into shelter houses. Nonetheless, compared to the dorm rooms of schools for the rich, the orphanage rooms were grey and bare shacks. 'At least the kid will have better living conditions when he's recruited by the military,' he thought, yet another part of his mind nagged at him, the Tower of Knowledge, wasn't just a school. It's a respected place well known for their high degree of education for those capable of conducting alchemy, though it also served when necessary, as a stern environment of discipline and correction for the _difficult_ children to lead them onto a better and respectful path in life.

'Did Elric belong in the earlier or latter category?' Roy wondered. Was the boy a talent from the alchemy faculty of the Tower that they wouldn't accommodate any further and forced to send to the military? So perhaps this Elric boy was a delinquent? Have the instructors here given up all hopes of correcting him and are sending him to the military to become a pawn and one of the many front line shields when the next war hit? That didn't make sense either because Roy was quite sure that the military would not have sent a colonel for such a task.

So then, just _what_ was Edward Elric?

**o0o**

He was welcomed into the reception lounge, which had round spacious room and quaint furnishings, was quite off the mark from how he had imagined it to be. The tea table was made from frosted glass and the sofas were individual round blue blobs of leather. He made a mental note to himself to see if the rest of the place was similarly furnished, though, he suspected, it probably wouldn't. He had checked the budget of the orphanage before he came here and if it was being surged like this in the staff areas… there wouldn't be enough for the rest of the school and students.

Deep in thought, a silver platter of cupcakes suddenly appeared before him. Staring at it stupidly for a few seconds, he woke from his reservoir to finally noticed the tall attractive woman who had placed the platter before him. Quickly getting to his feet, he bowed and introduced himself.

"I am sorry for troubling you but I am here on behalf of the military..."

"Yes, I was expecting you, Mr. Mustang. I received the letter regarding Edward's… 'Adoption' into the military", she replied and Roy heard the way she paused on the word 'adoption' as though tasting it and finding it foul.

Somewhat embarrassed, Roy couldn't help but notice the revealing manner the woman flaunted her D cups… no… a larger size than that most likely and hurriedly tried to come up with a topic to occupy his mind before it would wander any further into the gutter. 'Is that really proper for someone working with kids?' he thought. However, he kept that to himself and replied smoothly with, "It would be most appreciated Ms…?" he trailed off, hoping from a name.

"Lust."

'What in the blazes…?' he thought to himself for the second time as he struggled to come up with a topic of communication again. It was then that Lust spoke.

"I understand that my name is often uncomfortable to hear. Goodness knows what my father was thinking when he named me."

'Yes,' Roy thought, ' and thank _goodness_, I don't know,' but he also kept that to himself and instead smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring and friendly way.

"Before I go fetch Edward, I hope you don't mind my curiosity in the matter. What are the military's intentions for him?"

"We've been informed that Edward Elric is a budding young alchemist. The military simply intends to nurture that talent in a more suited environment. Alchemists are hard to find these days and a great treasure for the nation," he replied, 'and war,' he added silently to himself.

"Do you know of a boy named Alphonse Elric?" asked Lust.

"Another Elric? Are they related?" indeed he had not heard the boy had a brother. Interesting. He'd let Hawkeye check it out when they got back.

"Alphonse is Edward's younger brother. He was adopted not long after he came here."

The conversation drifted into a detailed account of Edward's protectiveness of his brother and how they were forcibly parted, Edward's rebellious personality and alchemy abilities causing trouble in the orphanage.

"I think losing Alphonse is the real reason behind his rebelliousness. His brother was very dear to him."

Roy sighed to himself. So he was right after all, this Edward kid might be talented but he was also a troublesome brat. No, he shouldn't jump to conclusions from what this 'lady' told him. Prejudice was a dangerous thing. He would judge the kid himself.

"Shall I go fetch him now, Colonel Mustang?" Lust asked.

"Please do," he said with another bow.

With an exaggerated curtsy that gave Roy a good glance of cleavage underneath her shawl, she left the room with her dark, wavy hair rippling behind her.

When Edward Elric entered the room, Roy's skepticism returned again. Not only was he only 15, he looked like he was 12. 'Great. Just great,' Roy thought, mentally slapping his forehead. Taking into account, the plain white shirt and black trousers the kid was wearing, he also noticed that his feet were bare and hands were tightly bandaged. This rang more bells in his already fuddled mind. Was he being abused? Simply clumsy? Got himself into a fight? Goddangit! He wanted answers!

"Head up, Edward. Don't be rude and greet our guest properly!" Lust said her tone quite different from the velvety one earlier.

Edward mumbled a muffled "Yes, Miss Lust," and rose his head slightly higher. Roy's breath caught as he found himself staring into pools of liquid gold eyes. All previous doubts were pushed aside. Those eyes… Those eyes burned with determination, death and the understanding of a true philosopher. Things made sense now.

The military could definitely use a dog like him.

"You are Edward Elric?" He asked, as though that needed clarifying.

"Yes," was the impatient reply, as though he couldn't wait to leave the room. Roy noted that the boy was fidgeting and was clearly uncomfortable with the attention focused on him.

"Edward, you're coming with me," Roy stated.

"…What?"

"You've been officially adopted."

If he wasn't here strictly for business and thus, had a composure to maintain, he would have laughed at the dumbfound expression on the boy's face.

**o0o **

Edward followed Roy down the maze of halls in the building. 'They don't need guards,' Ed thought bitterly, 'whoever attacks would probably spend the rest of his life in this labyrinth.' However, despite his thoughts, Roy seemed to know his way, so he continued to pass halls that were identical to the ones before until he came to a halt before two wide oak doors below the Fuhrer's sigma and between two guards armed with swords.

He gulped. Why he was here, he had no clue. Firstly, he gets adopted by some stranger he's never met. Secondly, he's told the stranger was actually adopting him on behalf of the military (who the fuck gets adopted by the military?). Then, he's told that some person named Brass wanted to meet him. Then, he finds out that the brass actually meant the important people in the military and that the (freak) stranger was of colonel rank. _Then_, he's told to get in fancy too-tight ('presentable') clothes and led along grey buildings and grey halls.

Ed was not stupid. He knew this couldn't be a good sign.

The guards lowered their arms and gave a respectable bow when Roy presented his watch for them. Ed hitched a ride on Roy's coattails.

There was yet another guard behind the doors who signaled them to stop and said, "I will inform his Majesty of your arrival. Please wait here." With that the Guard gave a brisk bow and left.

Ed's nervousness was somewhat calmed (though he would never admit to being nervous) by Roy's calm composition. 'This must be normal procedure,' he thought and waited patiently with only a slight occasional shuffle of his feet against the rich scarlet carpet.

The Guard came back soon enough though, and motioned for them to "Please enter."

This new room was brightly lit by chandeliers that emphasised just how high the ceiling actually was. Portraits of the country's previous rulers hung in frames of gold from the royal blue walls. However, Ed didn't take notice of any of this. His attention was entirely consumed by not the Fuhrer seated on the thrown in the middle of the room, but by the other man sitting in a luxurious armchair angled slightly to allow more comfort in talking to the Fuhrer as old friends would.

Ed could count the number of times he had seen this man on his right hand. He had rarely managed to catch glimpses of him through the second storey stair railings in his childhood but despite this, he recognised this man immediately. From this man, he had inherited his golden hair and unique matching golden eyes.

As though sensing Edward's stare, the man turned around to face the new arrivals.

Their eyes met and held. One pair accessing, the other pair burning with fierce anger.

"Edward," the taller man said in greeting, his tone almost friendly.

Like a mouthful of lemon, Ed spat out his reply at him.

"Father."

**Post Note:**

I'm testing new waters here, so if anyone thinks this fantasy genre isn't working, tell me and I'll do something about it.


	2. Blind Enemy

**Disclaimer:** Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa Hiromu-sensei, Square Enix and recently, Viz. I earn no profit in this.

**Notes:** This is an alternate universe story set in a semi-medieval setting. Please bear with me if it seems strange at first.

Please do not rely on me for accuracy of the information I mention in this story. Some are real to the best of my knowledge, while others are purely fictional to fit the FMA story.

This chapter was revised and rewritten on the 26th of June, 2007.

**Blind Enemy**

_It's true when they say that what you don't know can't hurt you. But when you do find you, it hurts million times more. _

**oOo**

'So this is what it feels like to watch a true genius at work,' Roy thought. There were worldly alchemists out there and in the military, but although they were undoubtedly good, Edward Elric was something else entirely. The 15-year-old practically _inhaled_ the resources given to him; leather books ranging from basic to advanced theory alchemy, medical and deconstruction alchemy, the science of chemistry, physics and biology. He went through the books conclusively, only stopping occasionally to take a break and drink a mug of cocoa while reading the blurb on the unread books, sorting them and his notes. His eyes scanned the pages not only with speed gained from practice and familiarity with the text, but also a burning hunger for knowledge.

Roy wondered if he was actually absorbing it all. Was that even possible? But his doubt was once again, like his doubt of Ed's capacity at his age, evaporated when Ed was given his first job. He hadn't been properly taught the requirements for dealing with mythicals just yet, nor the practical combat formations, so Ed's job was simply to translate a few segments from a newly discovered archive of ancient Ishvarian literature. He had been given a large box of dictionaries and other resources to aid him. He also had a fortnight to get it done. Roy expected him to stay amongst the musty smell of books in the library for a while. As it was his first job, he military had given him a bit of extra time, but it was still a tight schedule.

Edward Elric handed the translated segments in 2 days, compete with footnotes and references to books of all sorts _but_ the ones he was provided with. The box of dictionaries and other books was also sent back in the same condition they were when they had been sent. When asked, Ed had brushed the books off as "Elementary and useless."

He could sometimes be the most immature brat, yet other times he was the one the military had begun to turn to for confirmation of alchemical details. But despite all of Edward's well-deserved praise, there was something… off about him. Since he was obviously not going to get any answers from Ed (God knows he's tried) the next best alternative was to ask around the Tower. Roy didn't like being kept in the dark- especially when the military was involved.

"He's cursed. Didn't you know?" one child said.

"I heard that he's really mean. Someone said that Ed killed the nice pet the lab had," a blond boy named Mike said.

"Ed's nice. He doesn't talk much, but he listens to people," a sweet girl named Julia said.

"Ed used to be nice but after Al left, he turned all prickly. Al was always the one who stopped the fights," another child said.

"I heard some man took Al in to be his apprentice in magic," said yet another.

By the end of the day, Roy had heard just about everything… and it was hurting his head.

None of it made sense.

Nearly all of the 'information' was in either in the, "someone told him who told me" format or, "it was told by my friend who was told by his/her friend" format. Roy ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and asked for the tenth time that day how Hughes manages to do this daily. But then again, the central intelligence department probably didn't interview brats.

The only clear facts he had gleaned from the day was that Al could also do alchemy. he was taken by a man as an apprentice. Roy wasn't sure about the magic part though. Could Al do magic? Was his new adoptive father a magician? Or was the kid just stupid and couldn't tell alchemy apart from magic?

**o0o**

Though adopted by the military, Ed was put directly under his care as was to live with him. Because Roy had wasted the day before interviewing brats, he realised too late when he got back that he had yet to buy the boy a bed. It was awkward at first, but after promising that it would just be for one night, Ed agreed to share the bed.

Only the first rays of sunlight had begun to peek through the curtains when Roy woke. To his amusement, he found that Edward was cuddling the blanket in his sleep. Shifting to face the boy, he was surprised when Ed started to snuggle closer to him, perhaps for warmth. He became slightly worried when the arms came up though. He wasn't sure if he could handle a Edward Elric that had woken to find himself wrapped around Roy Mustang. 'He'd probably manage to accuse _me_ of being the pervert,' he thought. He tried to stay still but his left arm (that was currently under Ed's shoulder) had fallen to sleep. It was prickly and numb and Roy didn't like it. While trying to not wake Ed, Roy slightly pushed him over a bit.

Ed still woke.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Roy waited for the ear-piercing shout to come.

But it didn't.

"Do you mind?" Ed asked, jerking his head a bit to signal his arms.

"Not particularly," Roy answered. It was true, as long as Ed didn't haul his automail arm up on his chest, he didn't mind the left arm that was currently snaked around him.

"Good," Ed said, and promptly went back to sleep.

This wasn't exactly what Roy had in mind and prepared for when the Fuhrer announced him to be Edward Elric's legal guardian. Ed had made it clear that he would sooner die than recognise the man next to the Fuhrer to be his father. Despite his quandary situation, Roy forced his eyes closed and willed sleep to come. This shabby military division in the outskirts of the country would probably their last chance to properly rest and sleep in, though Ed probably wasn't aware of this. When they got back to central, Edward Elric would be their newest state alchemist and a dog of the military.

Roy had stopped questioning the military's morals long ago, when he was younger and critical of everything around him that didn't agree with what he thought of as 'just'. Now the fantasy of such a thing had long folded in on itself as repeated encounters of harsh reality were met. He had accepted that some things are unavoidable, that some sacrifices are worth making, that there had to be evil for there to be good.

The warm body of Edward Elric was small and his sleeping face held a boyish appearance despite the defining angles and cheekbones of his that promised Elric to be a handsome young man in a few years. Not now, but in a few years. Elric wasn't prepared for bloodshed and war in his opinion. Despite understanding the the boy's worth just as much as the brass did, Roy found himself questioning for the first time in many, many years, the values of the military. Shaking his head, he tried to force out these thoughts that were depriving him of precious sleep. 'You're the one who approved of his registration when his profile was received,' he reminded himself, 'now is not the time for regret.'

Their current mission was quite straight forward. They were to infiltrate and capture the magician Quinton, the healer of the resistance force in this area, and bring him back alive. No violence was mentioned at all. But as they approached the camp buildings, it became apparent that there was no way they would complete the mission without spilling blood. The camp was more heavily guarded and larger than their informant reported. It consisted of three slumps of buildings. The two on the side were swarming with foot soldiers while the battle mages and officers were securely protected in the centre building.

"Colonel, do you even know where this shaman is?" Ed asked, not even trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"No," Roy answered, similarly irritated.

"Colonel, do you at least know what he _looks_ like?"

There was no reply.

"Great. Just great shit colonel. We're in enemy territory without aid 'cause 'that would be a waste of resources and draw unwanted attention, Edward Elric,' and no idea of where to start. We might as well wave at them in pink tutus and hope a miracle will allow us to survive the gunfire-"

"Elric…" Roy warned, his already stretched patience going.

"-And hope for yet _another_ miracle that they'll let the kind mage heal us!"

"_Elric_…" He said again, this time a warning in his tone.

"Maybe after we're healed we can capture-"

"ELRIC! Will you calm down and shut up!"

"I'm calm, I'm calm… I'll take out the guys on the right and you do the left side… then-"

"-Calm down I said!" Grabbing Ed's shoulders, Roy gave him a firm shake. "I'm ordering you to stay back and provide me with support. Do not attack unless it is in defence."

For a while, Ed just stood and blinked. 'He doesn't want me to kill?' An emotion flooded him so suddenly that for a moment before he identified it as relief, he felt like he was suffocating. Was he really that frightened of killing? After having survived the living nightmares he had faced, was it still possible to feel fear of killing? 'Yes' came the answer. 'I'm afraid of taking human life.'

Roy's hand rested on his left shoulder, gave it a firm squeeze and took off silently towards the guards.

The first explosion of a gun shocked Ed's eardrums so badly his hearing was impaired and head was aching. He had no idea that a gun could be so loud! Yet despite the still echoing gunfire ringing in his ears and the throbbing of his heart feeling as though it were to leap from his throat at any moment; he looked up to see Roy running ahead of him with whips of fire dancing from his fingers. The throbbing in his throat softened as Ed took a shaky breath of relief. Roy was still alive.

"Get them!" Someone to his left screamed, "That pipsqueak is with him. Shoot!"

'Pipsqueak'? No one called _him_ pipsqueak. Fear forgotten, he ran up, leapt and used his momentum to swing his automail right foot to connect with the Loud-Guy's ribs. 'That should teach him a lesson,' he thought with satisfaction, restraining himself from doing more harm 'because damn it, that annoying colonel asked him to be backup and only backup.' Remembering the colonel, he looked ahead of him. There, Ed spotted Roy pushing three man back with flames to buy time while to struggled with another thick-necked soldier that had his thick fingers around his neck.

His body moved on its own. Running forward, Ed clapped his hands together and felt the familiar alchemical charge surge through his veins. It was electric and razor sharp, screaming to burst out of its master. Ed formulated the pattern of the array in his mind's eye without difficulty. A triangle there, containing the ancient symbol needed to nullify the power in the angle of the line… on the opposite side, an anticlockwise swirl in its upper left to conduct the pulse of his alchemy so that it moved evenly to produce the blue light that now visually embraced him in less than a millisecond.

For this he was called a genius. But in reality, it was the result of sheer practice.

Pushing a pulse of his alchemy into the soil under him, he forced sharp blades of stone from the ground that were angled towards the enemy. The wave of blades moved quickly and smoothly forward, cutting through everything in its path of destruction. Men screamed as their bodies were slashed and limbs torn off. Ed ran after Roy without looking back, without stopping to think, to admit to what he had done.

Once inside the building, he quickly rearranged the atoms of the door with alchemy to seal it from the inside. Another charge of power and the door became one with the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a look of… respect in his eyes? However, the corner of Roy's mouth was slightly curved upwards with amusement.

"What?" Ed snapped at him. "Nothing," Roy replied, "Let's just go before reinforcements come."

A metallic click echoed behind them. "Too late," a voice said. Looking up, they were surrounded by men with their guns on the ready and aimed at them from the second storey above the stair railings. "Hands up above your heads," one man wearing a red cloak over a grey uniform said. Another man wearing a standard green uniform, stepped forward to whisper in Mr. Red-cloaks' ear.

**o0o**

The office was in chaos. "They've taken off their listening and tracking devices," Feury shouted over his shoulder from his position before the seer machine- A thin glass cylinder- spun vertically, displaying a moving landscape as the right wires were connected, buttons pressed.

"Roger. Moving on to retrieval plan B," Havoc replied and picked up the transmitter to his right and yelled into it, "Division B, get ready." With that done, the people in the office all looked up for further orders from the First lieutenant, only to see her checking her gun and walk towards the door. "First lieutenant, Hawkeye?" Feury asked uncertainly, to which she replied, "Havoc, come with me. Feury, I'm leaving the others to you. Make sure division B backs us up as soon as possible. We're going on ahead."

The gravel crunched loudly beneath their feet as Havoc and Hawkeye abandoned all attempts of stealth for haste. 'It's starting to rain,' Havoc registered, as he felt cool prickles on the back of his neck. And without warning, with a crack of lightening, it seemed the heavens had opened.

It was pouring. He could feel the cold rain trace rivers down his back that sent shivers up his spine. Shivers not unlike the shivers caused by fear and adrenaline or perhaps, the shivers weren't from the cold after all. Maybe both.

Military training took over as his mind numbed from the cold. This was good, he thought, reports had mentioned the enemy having chimeras. The rain would cover their scent somewhat.

When they were close enough to see the enemy's camp, Hawkeye ordered Feury through the communication devices clipped on their collars, to take cover and remain at his post for the reinforcements. Havoc went with her forwards with the roar of thunder to accompany the thundering of his heart.

**o0o**

Meanwhile, over the border where Ed and Roy were now held in and to the impressive room where their captain, Jones Newstead, leant back in his high-back armchair and waited for a verbal report to be delivered by his lieutenant.

"Sir, the two state alchemists have been captured," reported Blue-Suit with a salute.

"And the damage, lieutenant Argoth?" asked Newstead.

"Thirty-eight men, eleven chimeras," said Argoth.

"All this by just two alchemists?"

"Do you know what they were after?"

"No, captain."

"Then find out."

"Yes captain Newstead."

A moment of pondering hung between them as Newstead knitted his eyebrows together and grudgingly gave respect to the state alchemists. He had underestimated the Ametris Military. Their human weapons were more deadly than they first gave the impression of and he had lowered his guard and paid a heavy price for it. 'Oh well,' he thought, they had a few ardent alchemists themselves. Looking up at his lieutenant, he said, "The enemy might attempt to conduct a rescue of the two captives, go prepare the men to defend."

"Yes captain," Argoth answered with a salute and turned to leave.

"And lieutenant Argoth," Newstead said, stopping Argoth, "Go and call Mage Alphonse Elric to me."

"Yes sir," was the respectful and obedient reply, but his eyes questioned his captain's decision.

As the door to his office swung close, Newstead rested his chin on his propped left arm. This would be young Alphonse's first real significant task. The boy had talent and adopting him and initiating him into their organization was a decision he found himself often praising himself for. The boy was trusting and loyal. Although he had considered adopting the older Elric too, he felt that there was a streak of stubbornness in the older boy that could potentially cause problems in the future. The older brother (what was his name again?) wouldn't be as easily to mould as young Alphonse and Al's adoration of his brother would lead him astray and ruin him for the plans Newstead had.

As he listened to Argoth's footsteps walk further down the hall, away from his office, Newstead leant back again in his chair and swerved to the window. Through the witched glass, the sky outside was sprinkled with glittering immaterial wires, each linked together the alarms, men and chimeras and told him the precise condition of his jurisdiction. Observing the threads stretch and overlap each other, he waited for Alphonse to arrive.

Here in his army, a silver watch wasn't needed to show recognition of one's talent. Alphonse was young, but Newstead firmly believed that he was no less powerful than Armetris' 'State Alchemists'.

**o0o**

_Hey, do you know of the Makropulous Case? The beautiful Elina Makropulous drank the elixir of life and thus, was offered immortality. But gradually she found life boring and meaningless. At age 384, she refused to take the elixir of life again and despite the protests of men enchanted by her, she ended her own life. I don't think that time gives value to life. It's how you use the time that does._

There were four grey walls, no window, a dim light and rats in their prison cells. Roy stretched his legs, sat down on the grey cement floor and leant against the wall that separated his and Ed's cell. "You know, they're most likely to kill us after interrogating or whatever they want with us," he said.

"Dont' worry, I remember the oath I took for the military when I signed up. I won't talk," Ed replied.

"I know that, Fullmetal. I'm sure you'll be able to take a bit of torture. I'm just sorry about the later. Sorry for your brother."

A pause.

"How did you find out about Al?" Ed demanded.

"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

For a while there was no sound from the other side of the wall and Roy feared that he broke the boy. He was an amazing alchemist, yes, but still someone young and with much to learn about life despite the brilliant future that was almost promised to lie ahead of him. He mentally slapped himself for mentioning a subject he should have known was sensitive. After what seemed like an hour, Ed spoke again.

"Death gives meaning to life. I'm not saying that I _want_ to die, just that I'm prepared."

Roy's mind blanked out for a moment at this declaration before his studies of the theories of philosophers Epicurus and Lucretius resurfaced from his academic years long ago. "Are you sure?" He asked, "Don't you want to meet your brother again? Don't you want to settle things with your father? Or end them, if that's what you want... You can't do anything when you're dead." 'I can't become Fuhrer if I'm dead,' he added silently.

But Ed disagreed. "How do you know any of that will happen if you lived?" He argued.

"I don't. But there's the possibility and opportunity."

"I don't daydream in possibilities and all that bullshit. What happens, happens. What doesn't, doesn't," he said. "I'm an alchemist if you've forgotten. I'm a scientist like you, shit Colonel and I've got good reason for not being religious."

"So you don't mind dying because you don't believe in the potential future?"

"Water, carbon, ammonia, lime, phosphorus, salt, saltpeter, sulfur, fluorine, iron, silicon and other elements I can't be bothered to name right now, are what makes us. When we die, our bodies decay and it all comes it an end. I don't believe in an afterlife. Death can't hurt because we feel nothing when we're dead."

"You don't believe in the existence of a soul?" Roy asked, truly intrigued. Despite his impatient and matter-of-fact attitude, Ed didn't strike him as the sort to think of a person as simply a body and a brain but not a 'mind'.

Silence.

"I didn't say that I believe that there're no divine figures like gods and spirits. I'm just don't believe in it. My soul won't be received by any god, nor do I want it to be."

With all his worries and desperate attempts to find a way of escape, this philosophical debate with Ed was soothing and returning calm to his mind. In what seemed like an impossible situation, talking to Ed was like the kiss of a cool wave. Regardless of the dank cell and soldiers outside, Ed had soothed his rattling soul with the reasoning of a mature mind, equal to his; a quality he had never found amongst his other most trusted subordinates or even lovers.

With the recognition of that thought, it was not fear that stirred in the corner of his mind, rather something else. An itch that he couldn't quite place his a finger on. With a sigh, he shoved the worry aside. Now was not the time to be thinking such things.

Even with all this talk of death, he couldn't quite stop the smile that spread slowly across his face like the warm sun that now spread through his chest.

**Post Note: **

Yeah… this is really late. I know. If you have left me an email to remind me to update (or threatened to murder me if I didn't update), rest assured that I have read it and felt thoroughly guilty. I didn't reply simply because I couldn't find the time but now that half of my exams are over, I'll take a day off to write and answer all of them.

I made my assumptions about Edward's philosophical standing partially from episode/chapter one where him and Al offer blood as equivalent trade for the soul.

This story is completely experimental. The fantasy genre, plot and way of narration are all new territory for me. Please give me feedback on whether or not this way of telling this story and the actual story works or not. I really appreciate it.


	3. Breaking Apart

**Disclaimer:** Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa Hiromu-sensei, Square Enix and recently, Viz. I earn no profit in this.

**Notes:** Please do not rely on me for accuracy of the information I mention in this story. Some are real to the best of my knowledge, while others are purely fictional to fit the FMA story.

**oOo**

**Breaking Apart**

_A philosopher once said that, "The point of philosophy is to start with something so simple as to seem not worth stating, and to end with something so paradoxical that no one will believe it." I wonder if this fucked up situation between Al and I also originated from a simple mix-up of personal philosophy. _

_Even now, I still don't know._

"You requested for me Captain?" Alphonse asked. He was dressed in the green uniform of their faction and from the quicker than usual breaths, it seemed that he had run all the way here. Although he had adapted remarkably to army lifestyle (much of it due to his desire to please his adoptive father), the 14 year old still stood out with his large blue eyes and puppy fat cheeks. The boy practically shone innocence and trust.

So easily convinced and used.

"Alphonse, my son, I've made me very proud during your last mission. You saved a lot of men with your quick thinking and power," the words came easily to Newstead, who knew exactly which buttons to press when it came to his adopted son.

Al flushed at the praise and thanked him.

"I'm sure you know by now that the men respect you and have faith that you will lead them well in battle. You've earned their respect and faith through hard work and how is the time that you to be properly rewarded for it. How do you feel about becoming a junior lieutenant, son?"

"Wh… what? A lieutenant? Me?"

"The commander has had his eye on you for quite some time now and with the recommendation I sent up last month, you have now officially been promoted to junior lieutenant. Unfortunately, duty comes before pleasure and our current battle status does not allow us the pleasure of giving you the proper ceremony for your new rank."

"I'm a… what am I supposed to do as a junior lieutenant?" Al asked, confused and worried.

"Just continue doing your current mission for now. Your new rank will supposed to help you control the men who already obey you as leader and help establish order. Order will be vital if you are to successfully execute your next mission."

After a few more words with him discussing the progress and planning of the mission, informing him of the details of his rank, his new privileges and having made sure that Al had regained his calm from the surprise, he sent Al off again.

"Junior Lieutenant Newstead," Al murmured to himself as he walked, testing the new rank given to him. It sounded odd. 'Are people going to be calling me that now?' he wondered. At the moment, even though he was a mage and technically outranked the others, they still called him by his first name. Being called so formally by his adopted surname was almost foreign. Although he had been legally 'Alphonse Newstead' for over five years now, but deep down he was still an Elric. With that sudden realization, a sharp twisting pain in his heart replaced whatever appeal the new rank had for Al.

Arriving at his designated dorm room where his bags were all packed to go, Al collapsed on the bed and thought about his brother. He missed him so much. Was he still at the orphanage? No matter how hard he worked to please his father, he was never given permission to visit his brother. The next mission that he was supposed to lead would be his hardest yet and Al wondered how Ed was these days. To be honest with himself, Al really didn't want to do this mission and was shocked at the mere fact that he had accepted in the first place. But the offer of allowing him to visit the orphanage if he pulled it off was far too great for Al to resist. It had been over five years since he had seen brother.

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him when he remembered Ed's angry face whenever he heard the word "Short" (whether or not it was directed at him didn't matter.) "Without me to stop him, I bet he's been getting into all kinds of fights," he said to the empty room.

"Brother, I'll be visiting you soon. I promise."

**oOo**

They would have to fight hard to make it work but the surprise attack lead by Hawkeye was perfect. After having Feury check the whereabouts the prisoners were usually kept, they had to confirm that Roy and Ed were both there and not somewhere else with higher security. Taking opportunity of the scheduled guard switch and the few precious moments when the guards' relaxed to exchange polite greetings, Farman was to let out a few gunshots cause a distraction while Havoc and Hawkeye took advantage of the noise to climb over the walls.

The first soldiers to spot them were the first to go down. A bullet each to the head with a silenced gun from Hawkeye had ensured that the uniforms they stole off them were undamaged. Hiding the bodies in a currently unused room, the two continued their path to the prison cells.

An alarm went off and through the overhead speakers the voice of a female rung through the hallways. "Attention all personnel, section E2 of the camp is under attack. Condition Alpha is now implemented. I repeat, condition Alpha is now implemented. Squad C and D, please report to your commanding officers."

The result was instant. The empty hallways were suddenly filled with people and shouting as soldiers emptied from the cafeteria or wherever else they were at. Running to their designated positions, no one was sparing a second glance at two soldiers dressed in their uniform running towards the prison cells.

Havoc hoped that Farman had set off his side of the plan without any complications. A team of two normally, technical officers such as Feury and Farman wouldn't stand a chance against these trained soldiers. But if all went well, those two should have been out of the area already and the men sent to deal with the 'attack' would only find a few very cleverly created and set time bombs and untraceable remote controlled gadgets. Feury may be a hopeless with a gun but when it came to technology… he and Farman could outsmart these muscle-brains anytime.

The two reached the prison cells and after a quick prayer by Havoc for Roy and Ed to be actually in there, he got on his knees to help Hawkeye who was already working on the barrier breaking of the enchanted door.

**oOo**

Someone was tampering with the wards on the prisoner's cell. The usually stable shimmering lines stretching across his window were twitching and glowing red instead of gold. Newstead got up, cast his red captain's cloak on his back and motioned for his guards to follow him. There was no time to waste trying to call the others who were currently busily occupied by this so _conveniently_ timed attack. He would deal with the intruders himself.

He caught them as they came around the corner of the hallway on their way out. With the two alchemists were two men- no, one man and a woman, he corrected- dressed in their uniform. His gun came up, took aim and before the woman could shout a warning, the blond infiltrator was down.

The alchemists were on them in an instant and fire appeared seemingly out of nowhere, effectively cutting off half of his guards. With the remaining three guards he turned to the blond alchemist. H didn't believe the woman to be a threat and so, turning his back to her, he faced his current opponent while trusting his other men to deal with her. Newstead couldn't help but feel a bit of grudging respect when the boy clapped his hands and turned the top layer of his automail into a glittering sword. With his left arm, he drew the sword from its sheath he charged just as Newstead took aim with his gun.

Roy saw Ed dodge the shot and using his momentum to swing the sword down on the enemy captain. Smiling to himself, he filed a way a little note in his brain that Ed liked to do things the old way. The boy preferred the gallantry of the sword over the efficiency of the gun. He was injured from an earlier session of interrogating and knew to try and keep the weight off his sprained left leg and broken ribs. He cursed his physical state and knew that if he hadn't been slowing them down, they would have long been out of the camp before these bastards got here.

_Snap_. One guard down.

_Snap_. Putting out the fire on his clothes should occupy that other guy.

_Snap_. Roy didn't even bother to check that he'd gotten the man, from the screams of, "ARGH! Help!" he was pretty confident that he did. Leaving the other guards and Newstead for Ed and Hawkeye to take care of, he hurried to check on Havoc.

Havoc was losing too much blood. The wound missed his heart and vital arteries but had punctured his left lung. Unless they got him to a doctor quickly, he was doing to either suffocate on his own blood or die from blood loss. Havoc had been under his direct command for eight years now and Roy wasn't going to lose him like this.

Gunshots burst out behind him and from the, "Ah! Bitch!" that followed, Roy smirked and inwardly laughed at the men for underestimating his First Lieutenant in the first place. Slinging Havoc's arm across his shoulder, Roy practically dragged the man forwards towards the exit. They would need the head start given their injuries.

**oOo**

The VIP carriage on the Central Express was a desolate affair. The taste of failure was bitter on their tongues as Havoc took up the bench opposite them. No matter now warm the rich colours of the carriage furnishings were or how soft the seats, the atmosphere was chilled by their anxiety. Surprisingly, it was Ed who patched Havoc up with the emergency aid supplies. Given that his fingers seemed to work with dexterity that could only come from practice, Roy felt that perhaps there was more to his past at the orphanage than what he let on.

Ed looked out the window at the landscape passing as a blur before his eyes. He knew that the faster they got to Central, the better chances Havoc had at making it through. He wasn't a medic but he knew that although he tried his best, Havoc was going to need a real doctor. Perhaps several doctors. Yet all the same, having experienced what he just did, a small childish voice was to him.

'I don't want to go. I don't want to become part of a war.'

Al stared out the window, not really looking at anything. Argon sat across him and 24 year old man was clearly not happy with being assigned to serve under a teenager who was a decade younger than him. In the carriage with them were the best men their resistance army had and in the carriage across the hall from them were some of their more _special_ guards. Today none of them wore a uniform. Dressed as plain civilians, they were riding in the two last economy carriages on the Central Express. He had already gone over the details of the plan with the men. They would succeed. Father would be proud. Brother would be happy to see him.

Today, they would arrive and book in on a hotel near Central Headquarters.

Tomorrow, the Fuhrer would die.

**oOo**

**Post note:**

Miracles really do happen eh? After one and a half years I'm back on this story… I wonder if any of the old readers are even still in this fandom. I'll be totally honest with you: I had forgotten about this story. It took a recent review to remind me to get my arse back to work on it. (See the effect of reviews? Hint, hint.)

I'm currently on university session break and am trying to get as much of this story written. I've got it all planned out now and it should end at 10 chapters (give or take).

To the old readers who had this story on story alert, please go back and reread chapters 1 and 2. I've revised a lot of stuff.


	4. Broken

**Disclaimer:** Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa Hiromu-sensei, Square Enix and recently, Viz. I earn no profit in this.

**Notes:** This is an alternate universe story set in a semi-medieval setting. Please bear with me if it seems strange at first.

Please do not rely on me for accuracy of the information I mention in this story. Some are real to the best of my knowledge, while others are purely fictional to fit the FMA story.

**oOo **

**Broken**

_It's one of those rare memories that do not fade in time. In fact, the memory is more vivid now than it once was. I've embellished it with all my worst nightmares and polished it my fears._

**oOo**

Roy looked much younger asleep when his usually calculating gaze is hidden behind eyelids. During the day, despite the smirk and the jokes, a weariness settles on his shoulders as he drinks his morning coffee while reading the latest casualty list. After the first night of his adoption, Roy had been true to his word and had gotten Ed a bed of his own. 'What a waste,' Ed thought, he had hardly used it for two months and now they've left it behind. Maybe some beggar might find it and put it to good use.

He now had his own assigned quarters but after dumping his luggage there, he couldn't stop himself from going over to Roy's place. Making up excuses to himself on the way such as 'I want him to go through tomorrow's procedure with me one last time,' and 'It's just a stupid habit. I'm just going over to say goodnight,' he found himself on the doorstep of Roy's (distinctly more luxurious) home.

Since arriving in Central, Ed had been keeping close to the colonel. He blamed it on the fact that he was unfamiliar with the place and that he was concerned about Roy's injury. Before he knew it, they had gone from meaningful glances and chaste kisses, to desperate possessiveness. His hands had been all over Ed the night before and as he stood waiting for the ceremony that was to officially announce his military title as being the Fullmetal Alchemist (for the media's benefit since the military ranks already knew,) along with other awards that were going to be handed out.

"…Our youngest but one of our most promising State alchemists, I give you all, the Fullmetal alchemist…" Ed took the cue and as he stepped forward to receive the certificate, He hoped he wasn't blushing as much as he thought he was.

The attention had been embarrassing for Ed who wasn't used to attention much less being the centre of attention. By the time he was done with all the necessary handshakes and smiles, his wrist was sore and his actual hand was numb. His life the past five years hadn't really been all laughter and smiles, but counting the number of stiff fake smiles he had dished out tonight so far, Ed felt certain that he had caught, if not exceeded, the average tally.

Havoc was still in hospital and the lack of his presence was a sorely felt wound among Roy's staff. Without Havoc's jokes and jibes, there was less laughter and an unusually sombre atmosphere. First Lieutenant Hawkeye was dressed in uniform having come directly from the hospital to check on him. She was probably the only woman in the room not in a dress and when Ed asked why she hadn't gone to change, she had replied, "I believe that duty and punctuality take priority over confining garments."

Ed's respect for her was raised another notch at that. It was refreshing to meet a practical and reasonable woman when all the others in the room seemed to be either airheads or utter dunderheads. Riza was a beautiful woman even in uniform though, and whenever Roy flashed one of his smiles at her, Ed felt an emotion he was loath to call jealousy. He was not jealous. Ed was not jealous at all.

**oOo**

The sky was starless tonight – and that was just perfect for their plans. The darkness would prevent them from being discovered by the guards too early. The state alchemists were all inside, having decided that outer duties were fit for the lower ranks. The alchemists would be protecting the Fuhrer from the inside while conveniently receiving awards. Al had heard earlier from street gossip that the highlight of the evening would be the formal welcome of a new state alchemist into their ranks; the Fullmetal Alchemist. Apparently this alchemist was going to be the youngest ever state accredited or something. But that didn't matter to Al. What mattered was that it meant the guests of honour and the other alchemists would be focused on this new kid which would serve as good a distraction as any they managed to create.

Al took a deep breath before signalling the first team of men to proceed.

He had the schedule of this evening event mortised down to finer details than even the most impeccable of guests. The Fuhrer would, right this minute be giving his speech a final look through and was due on stage in 13 minutes. Until then the quartet continued to play and the church bell dresses continued to chime with modest giggles and chitchat. Al knew that somewhere in the crowd were three of his men posing as security guards and that there were two outside the main doors ordered to shoot down anyone who tried to escape.

Al knew that an alchemist would be able to dismantle it or create a hole in the wall easily but that was okay. While the three undercover men shot the guests of honour and thus, draw the alchemists' attention and busily occupy them with saving them, the Fuhrer would be forced to escape to safety via a secret passage that was now, well, not so secret to the enemy anymore thanks to their intelligence network. With just one state alchemist and two assistants to guard him, Al and his blood thirsty second in command and four of his best men could certainly handle.

**oOo**

A rainbow of evening gowns swirled around the ballroom in stark contrast to the black suits worn by the male half of the population. The current fashion in central seemed to be five layered skirts with colourful embroidery decorating the outermost layer and heavy fur-lined frilled on the inner layers. Even Ed (whose sense of beauty has been doubted by many), could appreciate the elegance in the synchronised swaying of those bell-shaped gowns - Like church bells. Although most arrived as partners, there were still many single candidates who came as part of a family. So far into the night, Ed had been asked for a dance by nine girls who were no doubt daughters of some ambitious politicians, but to his shock, one rather brave young man had also asked him for a dance.

Roy had been constantly watching him and Ed had the feeling that the new Brigadier General was keeping count of his number of offers. His suspicions were proven when Roy walked towards him, pinned him with a stare and grabbed his hand.

Dragging him away from the dance floor, Roy led the blond outside before crushing him against the wall to claim his lips. Ed parted his lips and eagerly engaged in a tongue duel with him. Finally breaking apart for air, Roy couldn't stop himself from feeling smugly pleased when he saw that Ed was red faced, swollen lipped and glazy eyed. "What was that about, Roy?" He asked.

Roy leaned in and whispered to his ear, I think I'm too good of a dance instructor. You were receiving far too many dance offers in there." Roy moved lower to lick his neck before biting down hard enough to taste blood. Ed let out a gasp while his body gave a shudder of pleasure.

"I don't like sharing you," Roy said, "So from now on, you had better be a good boy by going to get something to eat and drink and staying seated away from the politician groups and their daughters."

Ed could only nod at this and gave a scowl when Roy gave him a teasing pat on the head before re-entering the ballroom without him.

They were unaware of two figures dressed as guards standing in the shadows observing them. They stayed out of sight and watched as the two who left the room engage in an intense make out session. It wasn't time for the operation to commence yet so they didn't interfere which was just as well, because after noticing the silver glint of watch chains on their pockets, even though they were well trained… openly confronting two state alchemists was idiocy.

So they stayed silent feeling like voyeurs and hoped the mission would start soon and that the two alchemists would end their lip lock even sooner. If they survived this, at least they'd have an entertaining scandal to tell the boys back at camp.

They did return to the room. 'About time,' they thought, and they only had to wait another five minutes before the explosion was heard and the door they had bolted shut on the outside, rattled in its frame. The music ended, the screams began.

Showtime.

**oOo**

They were waiting for them in the escape route. When the Fuhrer, his personal guard and two assistants was within their sight, Argon stepped forwards blocking their way and announced, "Sorry good sirs, but I'm afraid you have to die her." To the credit of the state military, the alchemist and even the office assistants reacted immediately and took up guarded stances.

'Bugger,' Al thought, there went their element of surprise. Why did Argon have to be such an arrogant ass all the time? Couldn't he just work with Al just this once? Al was already dreading having to kill the two men and women standing before him, he had been hoping for a surprise kill from behind or something. You just don't want to face them, a voice in his mind said. You can't meet the blame in their dead eyes or the look of confusion as to why he wanted to kill them. Other than the Fuhrer, the three others would be unnecessary deaths. Al knew that his brother would be shocked if he ever found out and as soon as he completed that thought, he noticed that he had used 'if' and not 'when'.

He never used to have any secrets that couldn't be shared with Ed. They would never be like we once were but could pretend that it still was. Al needed his brother and if lying would keep Ed from hating him, then so be it. He would live the lie for his only remaining family.

The alchemist was huge. Seriously. Muscles bulged out tearing his uniform as he flexed them for display. Even Argon hesitated to try and figure out whether he was mocking them, screwing with their minds or just plain stupid. Al swore he saw sparkles around him but it must just be the dim lighting playing tricks on him. The man shouted something about a Armstrong technique and charged at them while the assistants drew out daggers from somewhere under their uniforms and flanked the Fuhrer's left and right. Bullets of stone flew at them and Al hastily threw up a barrier spell. The barrier shook and rippled but held until the large bullets crumbled and dropped to the ground.

The alchemist wasn't daunted, however, and didn't give him any time to recover before launching another wave of attack in the form of even sharper, denser bullets. Al wasn't able to block in time so he dived out of the way to the side. The impact of the hits cracked the walls of the passageway and pieces of debris fell from above. A muffled cry told him that at least one of his men was injured already. Damn. Things were not going according to plan. The assistants were covering the Fuhrer's back as they ran back up the tunnel, trying to escape, but Argon was already after them with the other men leaving Al to deal with the alchemist alone.

Al knew that Argon and the men could take care of the Fuhrer and two assistants, so instead of worrying for them, he focused his mind on the opponent before him and prepared himself for another attack. He was quite certain by now that the alchemist specialized in stone and metal alchemy. It was a good and flexible area to work with and would probably cause most enemies some degree of confusion. Although Al was now a mage, this was not always so. Al's foundations lay solidly rooted in alchemy and his understanding of the art of alchemy often took his opponents by surprise.

There was really only one fundamental difference between magic and alchemy and that was unlike alchemy, magic did not follow the law of equivalence and conservation – or so most people think. The price of magic was paid in full, partially by the mage in the form of energy, happiness, or bodily harm, but the majority was paid by other means. The difference between mages and alchemists was that while alchemists had to provide the equivalent price themselves when transmuting, the price paid by the mage was paid by others at random, willingly or not. For every spell he cast, every barrier he constructed, somewhere in the world an innocent paid with illness, pain or material loss.

Al was painfully aware of this as he deflected another of the alchemist's attacks but he needed to resort to using magic simply because it was much faster reacting and energy conserving. Against an alchemist of this level, he needed that advantage if he wanted to win. Rising his hands, he summoned thin blades of ice that were small and agile enough to weave through the alchemist's storm of rubble. He was successful and the attack drew blood. The cuts were too shallow though and despite his large body build, the alchemist moved swiftly with his arms closely raised before him like a shield.

The difference in physical strength was clear so close combat wasn't an option. Stamina was also against Al as he could feel that his muscles were tiring and reflexes slowing. This was only further proven when he wasn't able to dodge in time and took a heavy hit to his left side. Struggling to recover his breath, the only option left to Al was clear. The risk was high but worth it.

At his level of mastery over magic he could vaguely direct where the price was drawn from. He attacked the alchemist by forcing the rock above him to fall and taking the opportunity given when his opponent was busy defending, he touched the rock beneath him and _pulled_ them up so that they formed a circle around the alchemist. A makeshift array. He then concentrated on channeling the backlash of the attack to that location. It was a mix of alchemy and magic and therefore extremely volatile but it worked. The alchemist was trapped, if not dead, and his path was clear. If Argon had managed to hold up his role, then the mission was accomplished.

**oOo**

_The art of war is of vital importance to the State. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected  
-Sun Tzu_

The doors were jammed and most likely barred on the other side but that wasn't going to stop Ed. He clapped his hands and felt the familiar alchemical surge course through his body, formulating the details that normally required an array to do. Slamming his hands on the door, he broke apart the atoms. The door crumbled before him and as he was about to yell at the people in the room to escape he noticed that the noise behind him had almost completely died down.

He turned to see that two 'guards' had the young son and daughter of Major General Hakuro held at gunpoint.

"Clear the way and they won't get hurt," one of the infiltrators demanded.

Roy stepped forward, his seemed calm but Ed could see that his eyes were burning with resolve. Roy looked at the one who spoke and said, "Let them go."

Ed watched as the scenario played out. Roy and the infiltrators were both following their parts as hostage taker and negotiator. The script they seemed to be following was so cliché it was nearly laughable. With Major General Hakuro's children as hostage, they had no choice but step back and watch bitterly as the enemy made a swift but cautious escape.

The enemy had only just left the building when Hakuro ordered all enlisted soldiers to go after them. First Lieutenant Hawkeye was called to lead them while an emergency gathering was made for the State alchemists.

**oOo**

The rendezvous point was just a few miles further when the blaring sound of military car engines reached his ears. They wouldn't be able to make it to their own arranged transport at this rate, so turning around on his heel Al quickly assessed the men who were coming out of the cars, bent low in order to take shelter behind the cars with their guns raised. It seemed that none of them were alchemists but rather were most likely a force sent ahead to delay them until military's human weapons arrived.

With the mission already accomplished Al had no desire to kill anyone else. This was a hastily formed group composed of quickly pulled together available men. For a squad of men who were relying on a competent leader to coordinate them by utilizing their well trained discipline, their weakest link would be that strong leader of theirs.

After all, leadership was a key to the art of war. Al scanned their rank marks on their uniforms and found the highest rank among them to be a woman baring the three gold stripes and double stars of a First Lieutenant. The blond woman seemed well liked and respected, which suited Al perfectly because he was hoping the Lieutenant's death would buy his own men enough distraction and havoc to escape.

He aimed and sent a needle of condensed air at her, stabbing her cleanly through the abdomen. The Lieutenant fell and the soldiers under her command froze in shock and faltered. The enemy collapsed on themselves. As Al turned and ran to catch up with his own men up ahead, he tried to find peace with himself for what he had did tonight by remembering that he had now fulfilled the conditions to finally visit his brother at the orphanage.

**oOo**

Back at the ruined ballroom, the medic alchemists pushed their way through the crowd that had gathered around the fallen Fuhrer. The adrenaline was fading and confusion filled the air like a dense fog, everyone was talking and pulling themselves back together from the shock.

Even the best Xing trained medics couldn't do anything. Ed knew enough about human anatomy to know fatal wounds when he saw them…

Beside him, Roy had already placed his right hand over his heart and was saying the standard mourning prayers.

The State hadn't just lost a good man with the Fuhrer's death. The people had lost direction and order. Though up until now, they were clearly dominating the war, this sudden turn of events cast long shadows over the light of their successes.

The weight of the watch that was formally presented to him by the Fuhrer just three hours ago was all of a sudden much heavier. Had the whole thing only lasted three hours? It seemed surreal that his world could be fucked up so quickly. The merry celebration for award-giving was now more like a funeral register and the vibrant decorations seemed out of place.

Roy squeezed his shoulder and said, "We'll get them for this. They'll pay for this tenfold." Ed wasn't sure if Roy was trying to comfort him or himself. He suspected a bit of both. They had been bit hard and with this attack they were now pushed to the edge of devastation. Such emotion can both break and make people. Ed looked around at the expressions on everyone's faces and saw fear, confusion, anguish, anger and revenge. With the right leadership, these people could make the most dangerous of enemies.

_"Demoralize the enemy from within by surprise, terror, sabotage, assassination. This is the war of the future."  
- Adolf Hitler_

**oOo**

**Post Note:**

I think you've all noticed by now that my chapters vary in length. Some are short (like the last one) and some are longer. That's because I've divided up the chapters by certain events.

I'm not really happy with how this chapter turned out but because it had a lot of fighting and because I hate (ie. suck at) writing fighting scenes, I'm just going to leave it like this.

Please leave a review on how you think I did! I seem to be getting fewer reviews with every progressing chapter… Am I boring my readers?


End file.
